And all the dead lie down (I felt soroccos crawl)
by tenrousei-kuroi
Summary: Harry arrives at Sirius's the summer after his Fourth Year, and discovers his godfather is concocting an extremely rare potion. "Of all the people who died, Sirius, why waste this on him?" Title and chapter headings credited to Emily Dickinson.
1. Arcturus is his other name

Title: **And all the dead lie down (I felt soroccos crawl)** _credit: Emily Dickinson_

Dedication: Request for mangoarcher1802

Summary: Sirius concocts a rare potion. "Of all the people who died, Sirius, why waste this on _him?_"

Story Notes: Functions as a one-shot, but there is a second half that I'll get up here eventually.

**part 1/2**

The summer after Harry's fourth year, Remus came alone to collect him. Now the two of them stood in front of a line of tall buildings, Harry in particular feeling very insignificant by comparison. He flicked his head back and forth, noticing that the house numbers went from 11 to 13, skipping number 12.

"Here Harry," said Lupin hoarsely. Harry could not remember the last time he'd heard his former professor's voice sound anything but strained. Lupin adjusted Harry's trunk and set down his owl cage in order to prize a piece of paper from his pocket. "You need to read this."

_The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix can be found at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, London. _

"What is this?" demanded Harry. Lupin only smiled at him.

"Just give it a second."

A massive rumble shook the street and Harry started. The buildings in front of him were splitting apart and sliding away from each other like two very fast glaciers. Harry watched in awe as a new house, Number 12, flickered into sight.

It took a few minutes for the dust to settle. Harry was still awestruck.

"What is this place?" he gasped.

"Your godfather's house," Lupin explained, pushing Harry forward gently by the shoulders. "He's letting Dumbledore use it as headquarters for the Order—that's the group of people fighting against Voldemort."

Harry only nodded numbly. Lupin rang the doorbell.

A few minutes later, the door swung open and a very exasperated man with long black hair was standing on the threshold. It was indeed Harry's godfather, Sirius Black, and he was looking a good deal better than the last time Harry had seen him. His hair was regaining some of its shine and he'd filled out a bit, no longer so skeletal. His skin looked healthier and despite his obviously frustrated expression, a brief smile dared to flit across his face.

"Sirius," Harry breathed, but before he could say or do much more, Lupin urged him inside.

"Remus how many times am I going to have to remind you not to ring the doorbell? Do I need to put up a _sign?_" Sirius hissed, although his voice was fairly good-natured.

"Sorry, Padfoot, in all the excitement it slipped my mind. Did you get her quieted down?"

"Yes," Sirius answered.

"Who're you talking about?" Harry asked while he frantically looked around, trying to take in everything he could. The entryway was dark, but he could see the outlines of frames all over the walls and one particularly large one by the door. There was a staircase immediately to his right and a long hallway to the left. "Wow this place is huge, Sirius, I had no idea you were rich!"

Sirius laughed. "It's my parents' old house, but they're both dead now. That over there," he pointed to the large photo frame by the door, partially concealed by a row of curtains. "Is a portrait of my wonderful mother, commissioned god only knows how many years ago by my father. Loud noises—_like doorbells_—" he narrowed his eyes at Lupin. "Wake her up and she starts yelling. I had to resort to drastic measures to shut her up when you two arrived just now."

"And just what were those?" asked Lupin with a smirk, but Sirius refused to answer.

"Come on, Harry," Sirius took him by the shoulders and led him up the stairs. "Let's get you situated in a room and then we can get some dinner started."

As they walked away, Harry swiveled his head around and listened carefully. From behind the dusky curtains, he could just barely hear Sirius's mother crying.

The first floor landing was as grandiose as the rest of the house, and twice as musty.

"Sorry, no one's lived here in a very long time," Sirius explained sheepishly when he noticed Harry swiping cobwebs off his sleeve. "Not since my mom died at least, unless you count the elf."

"You have a house elf?" Harry asked in mild disgust.

Sirius tilted his head. "Yes…his name is Kreacher and he's positively vile."

Harry only shrugged. He was very excited to see his godfather and didn't want to start a fight, but memories of Dobby's forced servitude and abuse and his own miserable existence at the Dursleys' made it impossible for him not to say anything. "Can't say I'm in a position to blame him."

Sirius frowned curiously. "Well anyway," he continued. "We've got some spare bedrooms down the hall here. I figured you could share one with Ron and Hermione."

"They're coming here?" Harry asked.

Sirius nodded eagerly. "Next week. The whole Weasley family, actually. I'm told Molly'll be keen to help me clean this place up a bit."

Harry nodded absentmindedly. He imagined Ms. Weasley would be more than eager to start in on the dusky house.

On their way down the hall, they passed two doors with nameplates. The first said 'Sirius Orion Black' in a fancy gold script and Harry smiled as they walked by it. He found himself suddenly insatiably curious about what Sirius's teenage bedroom might look like. Before he could inquire, though, they passed another door, this one emblazoned with a slightly longer engraving:

'Do not enter without express permission from Regulus Arcturus Black.'

Harry actually stopped walking. Sirius had taken three steps before noticing and turning back.

"Who's Regulus?" asked Harry before he could stop himself.

When he received no answer, Harry turned to his godfather. Sirius's face was mostly hidden in shadow (none of the lamps down the hall had been lit and very little light had managed to cut through the grime covering the window at the end of the hall). The nature of Sirius's silence made Harry uncomfortable, and he began to regret voicing his question.

Finally, just as Harry was about to apologize, Sirius spoke. "…I used to have a brother," he said shortly.

"O—oh," Harry nodded quickly. He didn't need to inquire further to realize he'd stumbled upon a sore topic. Perhaps Sirius's brother was dead…it made the most sense, after all, Sirius said no one had lived in this house for years, and if a member of the Black family were still alive, surely he would have moved in or at least sold or maintained the property?

Harry was jolted from his thoughts by Sirius speaking once more. "I've started clearing out your room," he said with forced cheerfulness. Harry followed him as they resumed walking. "There's a little work left, though, I'm sorry. I haven't had much time and it took me a week just to clear that moth colony out of the kitchen…"

The room Sirius had prepared for Harry had to be three times the size of his bedroom at the Dursleys' and ten times the size his cupboard had been. He really couldn't have been happier, but Sirius seemed highly embarrassed that he could not offer Harry more.

"The rooms on the second landing are much nicer," he rambled as Harry sauntered around the room, jaw slightly agape. "But it's going to be a while before I'd let anyone sleep in those, they're so cluttered and overrun they're dangerous, and if you stand still long enough you can hear lots of scurrying, so it's going to be a multiple-person job to clear them out. I swear I heard hissing from inside one. In a few months, though, I'm sure we can have one ready. This'll just be temporary…"

Sirius trailed off when he saw how widely Harry was smiling.

"Harry…?"

Harry walked up to Sirius and did something he'd never done before: hugged him fully.

"What's this?" Sirius asked in genuine surprise.

Harry pulled back and stared up at him sheepishly. "Sorry," he murmured. "It's just…you were talking as if you expected he to be here for, you know, a while…"

For a moment Sirius looked puzzled. Then he laughed, the sound very reminiscent of a bark. "Harry didn't Remus tell you?"

"Tell him what?" came a voice from behind them.

Harry turned around to see Lupin leaning into the room with one hand braced on either side of the doorway.

"The news!" said Sirius, swinging out his arms. "That Harry's moving in with me! That is…I mean, providing that he wants to…" Sirius glanced sideways at Harry nervously.

"Seriously?" Harry gasped. Sirius immediately relaxed. "Professor Lupin, why didn't you tell me?"

"I'm sorry," Lupin laughed. "It must have slipped my mind." He was giving Sirius a knowing look that suggested he'd forgotten on purpose, perhaps to let Sirius share the news. Sirius mock-glared at him.

"You're really excited, huh, Harry?" Lupin prompted.

"Of course! Anything to get away from the Dursleys! …I don't have to go back there again, do I?"

"You'll need to check in once or twice at the beginning of each summer, but don't worry, it'll only be for a couple of hours," Lupin said.

"Wow…" Harry murmured.

Lupin retreated into the hall for a moment and then returned lugging Hedwig's cage and Harry's trunk. "Here Harry, you can start unpacking. I need to borrow Sirius downstairs for a minute. Come join us when you're done."

"Okay," said Harry, kneeling to unlatch his trunk. He was still giddy with excitement that he never had to live at Number 4, Privet Drive again. An entire room to himself, with no locks on the outside of the door!

"What do you need, Moony?" Sirius asked as Lupin prompted him out the door.

"A package arrived for you with the word 'urgent' scrawled across it and I really want to know what's inside…"

A half an hour later, the rumbling in Harry's stomach was becoming greater than his desire to continue sprawling his things all about his new bedroom. He decided to venture downstairs and take the two men up on their offer of dinner.

No one had yet to show him where the kitchen was, though, and he wandered aimlessly up and down the hallway on the ground level before finally hearing voices he could follow.

"…I don't know, Sirius, but you can't possibly be thinking of doing it?" Lupin was demanding. Harry paused in the doorway, not wanting to interrupt what sounded like a very interesting conversation. He felt a little guilty spying on his godfather, but his body seemed to be on autopilot.

"You would have me just give up this opportunity?" Sirius was hissing.

"Even if it worked, Sirius…would you be doing them any favors? And besides, who would you choose? _How_ would you choose?"

There was a short silence followed by a frustrated sigh from Lupin.

"You're doing this no matter what I say, aren't you?" he asked.

"Whoever sent this wouldn't have done so if they didn't want me to take advantage of this chance to—"

"But you don't know who sent it, Sirius!"

"Of course I do," Sirius insisted vehemently. "I'd recognize this handwriting anywhere! And besides, what's it matter?"

Harry's breath hitched. What were they talking about? Carelessly, he leaned forward, accidentally knocking open the door to the kitchen.

Immediately Sirius and Lupin stopped talking. Knowing he had no other option, Harry slowly walked in, acting as though he'd heard nothing of their conversation.

"Hi guys," he said conversationally.

Lupin gave him a smile. "Hi Harry, there's some dinner heating up on the stove. Your godfather and I were just discussing…"

Harry interrupted before Lupin was forced to think of an excuse. "Are you staying the night, Professor?" he asked.

"You know I'm not your professor anymore…"

"He's actually going to be living here with us, when he's not off gallivanting for Dumbledore," Sirius explained. "I've got him a room sort of cleared out a few doors down from ours."

"Ah," Harry nodded and helped himself to some of the soup bubbling on the stove. A small part of him leaped with joy at the prospect that Ms. Weasley would soon be there, helping to cook for everyone.

"What's that you've got there?" Harry asked, trying to be nonchalant, as he sat down at the table. Neither Sirius nor Lupin had thought fast enough to hide the small, opened package or the letter that both sat on the table in front of Sirius.

"It's asphodel," said Lupin slowly, and after leaning forward, Harry could indeed see that a small bundle of dried flowers lie concealed in the brown wrappings.

"Okay," said Harry, wondering why on earth the two men would be arguing about such a common potions ingredient.

"Sirius was just going to slip it into the cupboard with the rest of the potions ingredients he never uses," Lupin said almost threateningly.

"Right," Sirius muttered. He scooped up the flowers and made off to another room, slipping the note into his back pocket as he did so.

* * *

"How soon next week will everyone else arrive?" asked Harry, scrubbing hard at the stubborn bricks around the mantle in the first-floor drawing room. He'd been on his knees working at it for twenty minutes and still the yellowed smoke stains showed no signs of leaving.

Sirius's head popped back up from behind the sofa, where he was repairing the upholstery and simultaneously keeping an eye out for holes in the wall.

"Thursday evening. First Order meeting's scheduled for Friday, just before dinner. You kids'll be banished to your rooms for the duration of that, I'm afraid. Dumbledore doesn't want you lot getting involved."

Harry shrugged disinterestedly. After the horror of his fourth year, a year spent calmly letting the adults around him care for everything would be a welcome break. He was truly fine with being in the dark, unless he was dragged into another mystery up at the school (in which case all bets were off).

"Thanks for helping me clean, by the way," Sirius added. "I know it can't be much fun. I'll bet this probably wasn't what you had in mind when you said you wanted to come live with me, huh?"

Harry threw his scrub brush at the sofa where it collided with a wet _smack._ "You idiot," he said. "If you recall, I agreed to stay with you back when you were still homeless."

Sirius broke into the first real grin Harry had seen since he arrived.

Harry got up to collect his brush. He didn't resume his cleaning, though, instead choosing to stare longingly at the bricks, which long ago he supposed had been white.

"My parents did like to smoke," Sirius said apologetically as he approached Harry from behind. Smoothly he waved his wand and the mantle returned to its former white sheen.

Harry folded his arms. "You couldn't have done that a half an hour ago?" He griped.

Sirius chuckled. "I'm sorry, Harry, I wasn't thinking. Here, come help me get some of these old photos down. Grab one of the sacks from the sofa, we can throw them all in there and then toss them out."

Harry obliged. Sirius started haphazardly tearing photo frames (some of them empty and some of the containing screaming occupants) off the walls, tearing wallpaper as he went. Some of them stuck more than others, and Sirius was forced to take out his wand on several occasions.

The little people in the frames cursed Sirius at the top of their voices. Some shook their fists or brandished wands.

Sirius hastily shoved a framed photo into Harry's hand, expecting him to toss it. Harry instead looked at it carefully. A wide-eyed young man dressed in expensive dress robes was staring up at him in abject horror.

"Er, Sirius, are you sure you don't want to keep some of these?" Harry asked, bewildered.

Sirius was busy scooping all the photos off the mantelpiece. They clanged and crashed when he chucked them all in a bag together.

"No, not really, why?" He asked.

"Well aren't these people, like, your family?" Harry questioned. It seemed to him that throwing away a photograph was like killing. "I just thought…you'd want some pictures to remember them by?"

Sirius scoffed. "My family? No, I'd rather forget them, really."

"Master would like to forget a lot of things," came a voice from somewhere just behind Harry.

Harry started so badly he dropped the frame he was holding. The man screamed as the glass in front of him shattered and his frame cracked.

"Kreacher!" Sirius yelled.

An old house elf, wrinkled and dressed only in a kind of loincloth, was scavenging around in one of the trash bags full of photos.

"Master has no respect for his family's treasures," the elf croaked in despair.

"Get out!" Sirius insisted. "And put those back right now."

Sirius rushed forward and yanked from Kreacher's hands the photos he'd removed from the bags. Kreacher made a keening noise as they slipped from his grip.

"Go, go, go, out," Sirius commanded, pushing Kreacher away with the toe of his boot. "Get away from here."

"Master and Mistress's photographs—" the elf wailed. Sirius pushed him harshly from the room.

"Stay out, Kreacher," he ordered. "Honestly," he said, returning to Harry and throwing the pictures away again. "He's a goddam pack rat, always trying to stop me from throwing anything away…"

Harry couldn't help but feel a small pang in his heart for the elf, though. He stared down at the crushed photos and remembered the day he'd seen the first picture of his parents. When Hagrid had given him that photo album, it had been like a part of him was completed, like he was whole. Having those pictures to remember his mom and dad by was very important to him. How would he feel if it were all just tossed away by someone who didn't care?

Sirius was muttering angrily to himself about Kreacher and prizing a particularly well-glued frame off the wall by the fireplace. Harry reached blindly into one of the sacks and pulled out a couple of photos. One was of a group of young women sitting arm in arm on a front porch somewhere. The other was of a man and a woman at their wedding ceremony, both of them bearing such a strong resemblance to Harry's godfather that he assumed them to be Sirius's parents.

Harry leaned out into the hallway where he saw Kreacher, sulking at the wall.

"Kreacher…" Harry whispered.

Kreacher did not immediately answer him. First he finished the conversation he'd been having with himself, then he turned slowly to face Harry.

"What does the little brat want from Kreacher?" he said.

Harry didn't say anything. Instead he held out the frames urgently. He needed to get back before Sirius realized he'd gone.

Kreacher stared at him with large, watery eyes. Harry shook the photos up and down a little.

"Here, take them. And hide them well so Sirius doesn't find them again. I think one is a photo of your masters…"

Kreacher snatched them from him immediately. He didn't thank Harry, but the protective manner in which he held the crooked frames to his chest was enough.

When Harry returned to Sirius's side he saw the man had briefly paused his tirade. There was a picture in his hand and instead of throwing it away without a second thought as he had all the others, this one he was staring at with great care. Harry inched closer until he could see Sirius's face. His expression was hard to read.

Harry stood on tip-toe to get a glimpse of the photo. It was of a young boy, maybe nine or ten, with raven-black hair so dark it was almost blue. He was dressed in his sleeping clothes and very busy cuddling an exasperated-looking calico cat.

"Who's that?" asked Harry quietly. Sirius seemed to snap out of a trance.

"Huh? Oh, no one, nothing…just another relative…no one."

Swiftly he threw the photo away with the others. Harry stared at the sack it was in for a long time.

When he looked back to Sirius he saw the man was staring at a large tapestry on the opposite wall. Embroidered on it was some kind of family tree with bright gold and silver connection-lines.

"Woah," Harry breathed, glancing at some of the dates. "This thing goes back forever…"

Sirius gave an experimental tug on the cloth. When it refused to budge, he sighed. "Probably some kind of permanent sticking charm, courtesy of my mother most likely. I'm not sure I've the energy to tackle this right now. Maybe after lunch…or tomorrow."

He led Harry from the room and back to the kitchen for sandwiches and a rest.

* * *

The next morning Harry woke up late. The clock by his bed read eleven-thirty.

Harry scrambled up. Why hadn't Sirius woken him up? They'd been up every day at seven so far, trying desperately to get Grimmauld Place ready for the Order. Hastily he got dressed and jogged down to the kitchen where he found only Lupin, sitting at the table with a cup of coffee, flipping idly through the newspaper.

"Good morning, Professor," said Harry, taking a seat. "Where's Sirius?"

"It's nearly noon, I haven't been your professor for a year and Sirius is in the study," said Lupin, lowing his paper and giving Harry a smile. "Don't bother him, though, he's…busy."

Harry tilted his head. "Doing what? Cleaning?"

Lupin scoffed. "Yeah, something like that…Here, Harry, sit down, I'll make you some lunch."

"You don't have to do that," Harry insisted.

"No, really, I feel bad I've been too busy to help you two with the house much, this'll be my contribution."

"All right," Harry laughed while Lupin rummaged around in the cupboards.

A minute later, Sirius came streaking in.

"Moony!" he called. "I need your help. Someone has to stir while I crush these." He waived a handful of brittle twigs.

Harry stared at his godfather in amazement. He looked almost crazed. He didn't seem to notice Harry at all.

Lupin mouthed something over Sirius's shoulder at Harry and the led Sirius from the room. From Sirius's back pocket, a crumpled piece of parchment fluttered to the ground. Neither Sirius no Lupin noticed it.

Harry opened his mouth to say something but could make himself. His curiosity got the better of him and once the two men were gone, he snatched up the paper. The handwriting was completely unfamiliar, a languid, aristocratic script.

_Sirius, _

_This is asphodel found growing of its own accord beneath a yew tree, picked at high noon by a child. If it's found its way to you, then surely I'm long dead. I trust you understand how rare it is, just as I trust you know how to use it, and who to use it for—Divination was always my strong suit. (It's how I kept up with you when you were little)._

There was no signature but Harry, just like Sirius, didn't need one to divine who the letter was likely from. Harry pocketed the paper, slightly guilty for having read it, but not nearly so guilty as he was curious. He just needed to be absolutely sure his hunch was right.

Harry crept off down the hallway and back to the front door. With no preamble, he flung back the curtains over the portrait of Sirius's mother.

The life-size painting flung up her hands against the sudden light and let out a yell.

"Don't start screaming," Harry warned urgently. "My name is Harry Potter and I just had a question."

The woman's eyes began to boil with an indistinct rage the more Harry spoke. "Intruder!" she hissed. "Disturbing my house, befouling my home!"

"Please," Harry begged, hoping desperately Sirius and Lupin wouldn't hear. "Ms. Black just glance at this, is this your handwriting?"

Harry held out the letter to her. "It's got these weirdly shaped d's, see…like the person who wrote 'em started at the bottom and also left off the tails. It's exactly how Sirius's d's look in the letters he's sent me. Same s's, too, see how they have that extra swirl?"

To Harry's surprise and relief, the woman leaned forward in her frame. Harry held the paper out further.

The woman sniffed. "It seems similar to my hand, yes…"

Harry smiled and folded the letter back up. "Thank you, Ms. Black," he said earnestly. "I'll tell Sirius he has to be nice to you from now on. Would you like me to leave the curtains open?"

"No, close them," insisted Ms. Black. "I've no desire to see the kinds of filth my son lets in to my home as they traipse in and out the door like they own it."

"All right," Harry said, sliding the drapes shut. "Let me know if you change your mind. I'll see about getting them cleaned for you."

"How thoughtful," was the reply and Harry smiled because it was only partially sarcastic.

Harry turned around, intent on sneaking back into the kitchen before he was missed, but no such luck. Both Lupin and Sirius, evidently alerted by Ms. Black's initial yelling, were standing in the entryway.

Harry offered his best smile. "Hi guys," he said sheepishly.

Lupin held out his hand and Harry handed him the parchment. "Sorry I read your letter, Sirius," he said. "But you left it in the kitchen."

Sirius only shrugged. He seemed more worried than mad. "I guess you should come and see what we're making," he offered.

"What you're making," corrected Lupin. "I'll take no credit for this."

"Moony doesn't approve," Sirius muttered, turning down the hall. Harry followed him.

"You're damn right he doesn't," Lupin griped, but he followed Sirius as well.

The ground floor study was a small, cozy room, and Sirius appeared to have converted it into a makeshift potions lab. A smoggy haze hung about the air and it was very hot. On the desk there sat an improvised Bunsen burner with a cauldron bubbling sluggishly overtop it.

Harry peered over the rim. A sluggish, grey liquid was roiling about.

"What is it?" Harry asked.

"It doesn't have a name," Lupin explained from somewhere amongst the smoke. Harry heard Sirius close the door.

"Can't let the humidity fluctuate too much," he explained.

"…no name?" Harry asked.

"Well, none that we can pronounce, anyway," Lupin continued, stirring the grey liquid with the ladle handed to him by Sirius. "All the references I've seen describe it with a series of symbols not in any language your godfather or I can read."

"You're trying to make a rare potion you've only read about?" Harry asked, remembering vividly his second year, and the exploits with polyjuice potion he'd gone through with Hermione and Ron. Hopefully this endeavor would end better.

"In books from the library here at Grimmauld Place," Lupin admitted. "From near as I can tell, this particular potion hasn't been brewed in thousands of years, if ever."

Harry's eyes widened in amazement. "Why not?" he asked. "Because that asphodel stuff's hard to get?"

"Precisely," said Lupin. "If you read the letter from Sirius's mum then you know the insanely specific circumstances under which the plant must be harvested. The fact that she found some is…remarkable. Even more so that she would have it sent to Sirius."

"What is this potion going to do?" Harry asked. He was vaguely familiar with the connotations of the yew tree, and the various uses of asphodel. But surely…?

Lupin took a deep breath before answering. "If brewed and applied correctly, it will…reclaim someone."

"Reclaim as in…?"

"It'll bring them back," it was Sirius who spoke before Lupin could, his voice scarcely more than a whisper. "No matter how long they've been dead."

Harry felt his skin start to tingle. "How much…how much did you make?"

"There was only enough asphodel for a dosage for one," said Lupin.

"Who are you going to bring back?" Harry asked before he could stop himself.

Sirius refused to answer him.

* * *

Sirius's potion needed to sit for exactly half a day without being touched. Sirius locked the door to his father's old study and forbade Harry and Lupin from so much as breathing in its general direction. The slightest change in the temperature or humidity of the room—caused by something so simple as walking too fast by the door and sending a gust of air through the crack underneath—could ruin everything. Sirius also still refused to talk about his plans for the finished potion, but Harry couldn't imagine Sirius using it on anyone other than his father. Hadn't James been Sirius's best friend and brother?

Not for the first time, Sirius was in an argument with Kreacher over an item he wanted to throw away.

"It's _broken_, Kreacher," Sirius yelled. "I'm getting rid of it."

"Master cares for nothing!" Kreacher screamed. Harry threw down his washrag and jogged into the room where the two were arguing. Sirius was holding a dented old Polaroid camera far out of Kreacher's reach.

"It belongs with the garbage, Kreacher," Sirius insisted. "Just look at it."

"That is Master Regulus's favorite camera!" Kreacher wailed. "Oh—how he carried it with him everywhere, how he loved it, it was Master Regulus's prized possession, a gift from his brother when he still loved him!"

"I don't have time for this!" Sirius yelled. "You can't stage a coup over every object I want to get rid of around here, Kreacher. I'd lock you in the attic if there wasn't so much junk up there that you'd probably try to hide somewhere."

"Master Regulus—"

"Don't talk about Regulus," Sirius growled. "He's dead and it's his own damn fault. What good's this stupid camera going to do him now?"

Kreacher was in furious tears. "Master knows nothing," he sobbed.

"Sirius…" Harry said in a placating tone. "Maybe…"

Sirius gave him a hard look. "Regulus was a Death Eater, Harry, he joined when he was sixteen. Mummy and Daddy were probably so proud of their little murderer."

"What?" Harry gasped. Sirius's family had never sounded pleasant, but he had not pegged them for followers of Lord Voldemort.

"No really," Sirius continued. "Perfect little Reggie, Mummy and Daddy's little pride and joy…got himself killed by Voldemort for screwing up one too many times, or so I've learned. He was eighteen, check the tapestry," he jerked his head in the direction of the drawing room. "Now if you'll excuse me, Kreacher, I need to get rid of this."

He started to walk away.

"Master is wrong!" Kreacher yelled after him. "Master knows nothing of how his brother died, he knows nothing of why!"

Sirius ignored him and traipsed off down the hall.

Harry stood there for a while, the silence broken only by Kreacher's erratic sobs. Through tearing eyes, the elf looked up at him.

"Kreacher knows," he said pleadingly. "And Kreacher has told no one, but Kreacher will tell Harry Potter!"

"No," Harry said quickly. He had no interest in hearing Kreacher's delusional tales. He was worried about Sirius and hustled out after him, leaving Kreacher alone.

"Sirius?" Harry called, but the man was nowhere to be found. Harry walked upstairs to Sirius's room and knocked on the door. There was no reply, but the door was locked. Harry retreated to his bedroom for a while to give Sirius some space. A good while later, he approached Sirius's bedroom again and knocked a second time. Again there was no reply but this time the door was not latched properly and swung open when met with Harry's fist.

Harry hovered on the threshold. He had never been in Sirius's bedroom before

He found himself stepping inside. He wasn't sure why, what would snooping around his godfather's bedroom get him? Sirius had already come clean about the potion.

Sirius's room was more or less what Harry would have expected. Remnants from his teenage years mixed with the subtler tastes of an adult were everywhere. Harry found several photos on the wall that included his father. After getting his fill of staring at them, he meandered to Sirius's desk and idly picked up the only standing photo frame in the room.

Harry felt a strange, creeping sensation in his stomach while he stared at the picture. It was the same one Sirius had had the other day, the one of the young boy and the cat. Harry frowned. He'd seen Sirius throw this away. The closer he looked at the child's face, the more he saw his godfather, but this couldn't be a photo of Sirius, could it? Sirius would not have lied if it were. Perturbed, Harry sat the picture down. The boy and the calico both looked up at him dolefully.

Behind the paperweight was something else of interest: the camera Sirius had kept from Kreacher, the one he'd promised to destroy.

…The one that had belonged to his brother.

So it was Regulus in the photo, Harry decided. The old polaroid seemed newly cleaned, and when Harry opened it, he saw all the film was gone.

It seemed all at once to sink in for Harry that his godfather was about to _bring someone back from the dead._

"SIRIUS!" Harry screamed. He snatched the photo of Regulus and sprinted from the room, yelling for Sirius and Lupin.

He found them in the study, hunkered over Sirius's potion.

"Harry," Sirius said, when Harry nearly bowled them over. "What's the matter, are you okay?"

Harry thrust the photograph into Sirius's face.

"This," he hissed. "You removed it from the garbage sack and repaired the glass and everything."

Sirius blinked. Lupin reached around him and took the picture.

"Is this your brother, Padfoot?"

Sirius snatched the photo by the edge of its frame. "Okay, so I decided to keep _one_ of the family pictures. Sometimes I like to pretend I have a_ few_ happy memories."

"I also found his camera," Harry continued.

Sirius shook his head in bewilderment. "Harry, what were you doing in my room?"

"That's not the point," Harry snapped. "The point is I know you're planning on using _that thing_ on your dead brother!" he pointed viciously at the potion, which was at that moment thin and purple.

Sirius said nothing.

"Well?" Harry demanded. He looked to Lupin. "He is, isn't he?"

"Harry," Lupin said bracingly. "This potion is so complicated….there's really no guarantee it'll even do anything at all."

"But what if it does?" Harry screeched. "What if you have, right here in this room, a one-use magic death reversal…and you're going to _waste_ it on a fucking murderer?"

Sirius flinched, but Harry didn't stop.

"You said it yourself, Sirius, he was a Death Eater. _You_ called him a killer! Are you really going to give a criminal the second chance at life when there are so many good people you could help! _Like my parents?"_

"You think I didn't consider James or Lily?" Sirius croaked. Harry quieted briefly to let him speak.

"Of course I did," Sirius said. "But which one would I choose, Harry? You father was my best friend, but he'd never forgive me for choosing him over Lily. And Lily? She'd hate me if I didn't save James. And besides…you couldn't possibly want to live your life with parents only a few years older than you…?"

Harry gave him a confused look.

"The potion, if mixed properly, will bring the person back as they were the instant before they died," Lupin explained. "That also means it's a waste to use on anyone who died of sickness or a slow-acting curse, because they would be brought back infected with the same ailment that killed them."

"Well—just… what about all the other options you have?" Harry sputtered. "Think of all the good people killed by Voldemort, and then tell me you'd rather save the man who was fighting _for_ him!"

"Boy," Sirius whispered, looking at the ground. Harry was almost taken aback by how dejected his godfather looked.

"What?" Harry said sharply.

"Boy," Sirius repeated with emphasis. "Regulus was no man. He was a kid, a child…barely older than you..."

"He made his choice," Harry insisted.

"And so have I," said Sirius with the sort of conviction that closed a conversation.

Harry remembered Walburga Black's letter.

"Oh just because your _mom_ tells you that you have to use it on Regulus you're just going to?" he asked in amazement. "I can't believe you!"

"Harry, we can talk more about this later when you've calmed down," said Lupin sternly.

"But—"

"No," said Lupin. He pulled Harry from the room and closed the door. "Let's leave Sirius be for a while. Don't forget to add more water in half an hour!" he added, hollering back at Sirius.

Harry stayed the rest of the day in his room. No one called him down for dinner, but he wasn't hungry anyway. All he could think about was how unfair it was. Could there be no justice in the world at all? How could Sirius do this to him? After all he'd said about Harry's parents... He'd never once spoken to Harry of Regulus, not until Kreacher had mentioned him. He thought of what he'd heard McGonagall say almost two years ago:

"_You'd have thought Potter and Black were brothers."_

Harry had thought so too, but evidently he'd been wrong.

Slowly, minute by agonizing minute, the room grew darker and Harry felt himself drifting off into a restless sleep.

Some hours later, Harry was woken by the click of his door opening. He sat bolt upright and squinted in the darkness. "…Sirius?" he whispered. "…Professor?"

"Mister Harry Potter," came the slightly squeaky reply. Harry flinched, and fumbled for the lights. When the room was fully illuminated, he saw it was Kreacher who had wandered into his room.

"Kreacher?" he asked in disbelief. "What are you doing in my room in the middle of the night?"

"Kreacher wanted to speak with Harry Potter," said Kreacher simply. Harry threw the covers back and got out of bed, making to lead Kreacher to the door.

"Well whatever it is, can't it wait? I'm tired…"

"No," Kreacher insisted. "Kreacher cannot talk while Master is awake. Harry Potter should follow Kreacher downstairs."

Harry looked at him suspiciously. "You're not leading me off to kill me, are you?" he asked.

Kreacher shook his head, making his ears flap about.

Harry sighed. Sirius had told him Kreacher was hostile and insane, but at the moment he just seemed desperate to talk to someone. Harry supposed Kreacher had warmed up to him because he'd snuck him the photos.

Kreacher led Harry back into the drawing room on the ground floor. Kreacher lit some lights and nudged Harry until his stood again before the grand tapestry.

"What are we doing, Kreacher?" asked Harry.

"Kreacher has been alone a long time," the elf began sadly. "And now Kreacher wants nothing more than to talk with someone who will listen."

"Kreacher," Harry groaned.

Kreacher continued unperturbed. "Kreacher must make sure someone understands what really happened to master Regulus…"

* * *

For the first time since the argument, Harry approached Sirius. The man was sitting in the library, an open book on the table before him, and he was fast asleep.

"Sirius," Harry prodded him gently. Sirius grunted and slowly woke up.

"Oh," he said, blinking. "Hello, Harry. What's wrong? You look terrible...have you been crying?"

"It's not important, listen, Sirius..." Harry whispered. Lupin was out on errands, but both he and the rest of the order—including the whole Weasley family and Hermione—were due to arrive at Grimmauld Place the next day. Harry was running out of time alone with Sirius and this was something he needed to say.

"About the other day…"

Sirius held up a hand. "Don't," he said.

"But Sirius, I…"

"You were right, Harry, I was being selfish."

Harry tilted his head. Sirius sighed.

"I thought that here I had this golden opportunity to fix my own mistakes, that maybe I could bring Regulus back and be a better brother…look out for him, keep him safe, make sure he turned out _right._ The sorts of things I didn't do for him while he was alive. I was wanting to alleviate my own guilt." Sirius rubbed at his face wearily. "I've blamed myself for Regulus's choices and death for a long time…mostly because it _was_ my fault. Wanting to try again with this potion…I was only thinking of myself and I'm sorry."

Harry bit his lip.

"And besides," laughed Sirius bitterly. "I've been doing some more reading. It's so slow because the translating takes so long…but if I've got this section here all right," he pointed to the open page before him. "Then I need to have the deceased's body to administer the potion. I guess that seriously narrows my choices, huh?" he laughed sourly. "I don't have the slightest clue where my own little brother's body is…"

Sirius flipped the book shut. "Potion'll be ready by this weekend. Looks exactly how the description says it should…" he looked up at Harry, and Harry was shocked to see tears in his eyes. "I don't know what I'll tell you if this thing doesn't work, Harry."

"Sirius?" Harry asked in amazement. Sirius nodded.

"You're going to have to choose, though, I can't do it. Just know that there's no wrong answer."

Harry could feel his heart pounding in his ears. He was going to get his way…Sirius was going to resurrect one of his parents…

And then in a flash he remembered his conversation with Kreacher, and why he had come to Sirius in the first place. Harry pleasantly surprised himself with how little time he took to make his decision.

"Sirius I talked with Kreacher earlier."

Sirius looked at him questioningly.

"And I know exactly where we can find your brother's body…"

* * *

Sirius wouldn't let Harry come with him to the cave to retrieve his brother, nor would he allow him to tell the Weasleys, Hermione, or any of the Order members about what they were doing—even Dumbledore. Sirius said there was no point in bringing it up until they were certain it had worked.

Harry imagined there would be a lot of legal paperwork to fill out when Regulus Black magically came back to life, a decade and a half younger than he was supposed to be.

Sirius sneaked Regulus into Grimmauld Place in the middle of the night. Harry was waiting to help him.

"He's in there?" Harry asked needlessly, indicating the large bundle of cloth in Sirius's arms.

"Yes," Sirius whispered. He was whiter than a ghost.

"Bring him upstairs to your bedroom, Padfoot, we don't want to risk someone stumbling upon him by accident."

"I thought he'd be bigger…" Harry mused once Sirius was out of earshot.

"Regulus's body is awfully emaciated. He was also always small to begin with," Lupin explained. He and Harry followed a good ways behind Sirius.

"Sirius looks awful," Harry whispered.

Lupin nodded. "Kreacher told you Regulus was dragged under by the inferi?"

Harry nodded.

"Well he became one. He was…animated when we found him. I wasn't thinking fast enough and…Sirius had to, er, deal with him," Lupin said quietly.

Harry grimaced. "Poor Sirius," he lamented. "Professor? This potion isn't just going to bring Regulus back to the inferi-state he was in before Sirius 'killed' him is it?"

"I don't believe so, his body was merely under a sort of spell, he was not alive when we found him."

"What about the potion he drank to get the locket? We aren't going to revive him just to have him die an hour later from the poison, are we?"

Lupin gave Harry a sly look. "I spoke in private with Severus yesterday. I have secured us plenty of antidote to the Dark Lord's poison. It's a slow-acting one at that, so we will have plenty of time to get it to him once he's alive again."

"So Snape knows?" Harry asked.

"Yes," Lupin replied. "But he has agreed not to speak of it to Dumbledore or anyone else until after we have told everyone."

Harry couldn't help but notice that Lupin was speaking a lot more positively about Sirius's scheme than he had before. He almost brought it up, but they had arrived at Sirius's bedroom.

Compared to the dark of the rest of the house, the light in Sirius's room was momentarily blinding.

"Remus can you pull the sheets back for me?" asked Sirius hoarsely. "Harry you can go to bed now."

"No," Harry said immediately. "I'm the reason you found him in the first place, I want to be here."

Sirius didn't argue with him.

"I have no idea what this is going to be like," Lupin muttered. "Sirius, I'll go get the potion."

"Aren't you going to unwrap him, Sirius?" Harry asked. He approached his godfather cautiously.

Sirius didn't look very stable. He was standing at the head of his bed and resting a hand where Harry imagined Regulus's face would be, beneath the blanket he was cocooned in.

Harry put a hand on Sirius's arm. "Sirius, maybe you should wait in another room. Professor Lupin and I could…"

"No," Harry heard Sirius's voice crack. "I'm the one who killed him…it's going to be me that brings him back."

Harry sank into the desk chair and leaned forward, resting his head in his hands and his elbows on his knees. "Hey Sirius, what was Regulus like, did he look like you? Was he a Gryffindor, too?"

Sirius laughed a little, wiping at his eyes. "Oh, god no," he said. "Reg was a Slytherin all the way. Didn't take the hat ten seconds to shout it out. Little brat…shit, did he look like me, though! People could tell from a mile away that we were brothers."

Harry smiled. "Bet they had trouble telling you apart when you were together."

"We weren't together much at school," said Sirius sadly. "Courtesy of me, mostly. I didn't want to be seen with my dorky little brother."

"Yeah, Fred and George are like that, too," Harry said. "Ron's always complaining about them."

"This was different," Sirius insisted. "I was…cruel about it. Harry, I…I don't think I want to talk about him anymore."

"Sirius," Harry asked. "If this works…you know you're going to have to talk to Regulus about…all of everything and—"

"All right, Sirius, Harry, how are we going to do this?"

Lupin had returned, a small vial in his hand.

"That's all it made?" Harry asked.

Lupin nodded and held up the vial. The potion had turned a searing, emerald green. "Lot of evaporation during the last phase. Sirius, are you ready? You don't have to be here, you know."

"I'm ready," Sirius said grimly. He gripped the edge of Regulus's sheet tightly in his fist.

"All right," said Lupin, gently grabbing Sirius's hand. "We're going to have to unwrap him a little now, just enough to get this in his mouth, okay?"

"Yes I know," Sirius said, but Lupin still had to move his hands for him. Together they pulled the bedding back from the head of the corpse. Harry forced himself to look on out of morbid fascination.

Perhaps he had looked like his brother in life, but in death Regulus Black could barely be called human. He looked like a zombie. His skin was soggy and sunken, bits of it missing. From a gaping hole, Harry could see greying bone, decomposing in an interesting honeycomb pattern. What was left of Regulus's hair was not the sleek, raven-black-blue from the photo Harry had seen, but rather a dirty, dusky grey color.

Lupin had been right: even from seeing just his face, Harry could tell Regulus was bone thin—and had probably been so in the last stretch of his life.

Sirius snatched the vial from his friend and tilted it down Regulus's throat himself, though Lupin had to steady his hand. The potion hissed and pooled in Regulus's mouth, unable to slide very far down his throat. A faint mist of smoke curled upwards.

"Does he need to like, swallow it?" Harry asked in desperation. He had the horrific feeling something wasn't working right.

"No, it just needs to be inside his body, anywhere inside. We could get the same results if we slit open his abdomen and poured it in there, just—" Lupin began but trailed off at the expression on Sirius's face.

"Is it working?" Harry asked, unable to stop himself. "How long until we know?"

"Shh," Lupin hissed. "A while, probably. I don't know, all the texts we found just said 'with time...' None were specific."

Sirius was visibly shaking.

The last of the potion dripped from the vial and Sirius let it fall from his grasp with a clatter. Grimacing, Harry picked it up and threw it away.

"Sirius," Lupin said after a while when there had been no change in Regulus's body. "Sirius let's go to bed. In the morning…we can come and check on him. Here, come on, come sleep in the guest room with me, you shouldn't stay here."

"No, Moony," Sirius insisted, throwing off his friend. "I'm not leaving. You go."

"You need to sleep, Sirius, it's been a long day."

"I'll sleep here."

"With a _corpse?_"

Sirius gave him a venomous look.

"I mean…with your brother? Sirius, I—"

"You don't think it will work," Sirius accused. "But what if it does, Remus? What if it works and he wakes up tonight? Would you have him staggering around the house in confusion and waking everyone up?"

Lupin bit his lip.

"He's right," Harry offered. "Someone should stay here for the night…just in case."

Lupin shut his eyes. "Yes, perhaps you're right," he admitted. "Come on, Harry, let's get you to bed. It's nearly three in the morning. Sirius set your alarm, okay?"

Lupin pulled Harry from the room.

"Shouldn't we make sure he actually gets settled down?" Harry asked him once they were in the hallway. "What if he doesn't sleep at all?"

"Then that's his choice and he'll regret it tomorrow."

"Professor?" Harry asked. "If this doesn't work…how long do you think Sirius will wait before he gives up…if you don't know how fast your potion is supposed to work when it's done right?"

Lupin only shook his head sadly. "I don't know, I should never have let him do this."

They stopped outside Harry's bedroom door. "Do you really think it won't work?" Harry couldn't stop himself from asking.

Lupin sighed. "Things that sound too good to be true usually are. I can't believe this…"

"What if it does work?" Harry pressed.

Lupin gave him a strange look and then clapped a hand onto his shoulder. For the first time in all the excitement, Harry noticed that Lupin was still quite damp from his exploits in the cave.

"Well if it works, Harry," said Lupin with a bizarre smile. "Then you can say goodbye to being an only child."

Lupin left him there in the dark. Harry opened his bedroom door, closed it again, and then walked right back to Sirius's room as soon as he was sure Lupin was out of earshot.

Harry crept into the bedroom carefully. He was surprised to see that Sirius had indeed gone to bed. The lights were off and from the faint moonlight cutting in through the window, Harry could see his godfather's sleeping form curled up in the bed next to Regulus's body. Harry grimaced at the faint smell of death and wondered how Sirius could stand to be so close. He supposed that both love and guilt could make a person do strange things.

Harry pulled the desk chair over so he could sit in it backwards and face the bed. He lay his head in his arms over the back of the chair and watched for a while. Soon his eyelids started to droop and he fell asleep.

It was the sun that woke him several hours later. A creeping dawn cut in through the gap in the curtains and streaked up the wall. The light splayed over Harry's eyes but he didn't open them. He was achingly uncomfortable from having sat in a chair all night, but his exhaustion was winning out. If he could just sleep for a few more minutes…

The creeping rays of sunlight had woken someone else in the room as well, though. First Harry heard a slight shuffling, and then through the pounding in his ears, he could just make out a timid whisper:

"S—Sirius…?"

* * *

end/part one


	2. Faith is a fine invention

**part 2/2**

Regulus's eyes were barely open. Through the morning's bleak haze, he could make out indistinct shapes around him. He was tucked snugly in a bed with someone curled up next to him. A tall someone with soft, black hair and his hand curled tightly around Regulus's wrist. Regulus could feel the familiar pain of his brother's old ring dicing into his flesh.

His eyesight slowly cleared. He thought perhaps he was dead, and that his heaven was waking back up in his home, warm and cared for, with Sirius by his side. He looked over his brother's sleeping shoulder at the photos on the wall. This was definitely Sirius's room.

"S-Sirius?" he asked softly, hardly daring to believe he'd been good enough in life to receive this in death. "Wake up, I want to know what day it…"

But what Regulus saw could not possibly be his brother. The man lying next to him—who was just beginning to stir and whose fingers were still painfully digging in to Regulus's wrist—was not Sirius Black! He was too thin, too old, too _different_, and when he sat up and blinked, at last relinquishing his grip on Regulus, his open eyes were too heavy and haunted.

Regulus screamed and thrashed until he fell off the bed, pulling half the bedding with him. He tried frantically to right himself but found his arms moved sluggishly, and his legs not at all.

His head connected painfully with a chair leg and in a momentary stupor he stared, dazed, into yet another familiar face that just wasn't quite right. For an instant, he would have sworn the concerned boy looking down at him, mouthing something that Regulus's ringing ears couldn't hear, was James Potter. It would make sense for Sirius and James to be together, but that man in the bed wasn't Sirius and this certainly wasn't James. Too young this time, and something was wrong around the eyes.

Panting heavily, Regulus began to panic. He was completely tangled up in the blankets and sheets, unable to move. He was an easy target.

"Regulus!?" A voice gasped in disbelief. "_Reggie?_"

Regulus swiveled to face the bed, where the strange man was getting up.

"Regulus!" he kept saying over and over like he couldn't believe his eyes. "Regulus it's me, calm down!"

The man knelt before Regulus and put a shaking hand on his shoulder. His skin felt warm. He tried to run his fingers through Regulus's hair, but Regulus, lacking any other means of self-defense, raised his head and bit him.

"Ouch, fuck, what was that?"

"Sirius?" asked the boy. "Sirius surely it didn't—I mean, did it…work?"

Sirius could only stare on in amazement as Regulus frantically tugged and twisted at the sheets until he had mostly freed himself. There was a dull, burning ache that ran deep down his throat, but he ignored it. He needed to get out of here as quickly as possible. Clearly something had gone wrong with his plan. He had not died in the cave, and had instead been kidnapped by…somebody...and brought to either Grimmauld Place or a very decent replica of it.

But for what purpose? Who would have found him in that cave?

Sirius's eyes widened when he saw that Regulus was almost on his feet.

"Hold on," he pulled his brother back to the ground and held him down. "Just calm down for a second, I know this is all a lot to take in…"

"Let me go!" Regulus yelled. "Get off! What do you _want_ from me?" Suddenly something dawned on him. He looked down at his bare chest, noticed that he was completely naked and then started to scream, trying desperately to push Sirius away from him.

Sirius pressed a wad of comforter against Regulus's mouth to silence him. "Harry," he begged. "Can you put up a muffling charm or something? Don't worry, the ministry can't trace you when you're surrounded by so many other wizards."

Sirius looked back down at Regulus, who stared back at him with enormous eyes.

"I'm sorry, Reg, I know this looks really bad and you must be terrified right now," Sirius lamented. "I just need you to hold still for a minute and listen. I'm not going to hurt you."

Regulus stilled.

"Good," said Sirius. "Harry," he called over his shoulder.

"Yes, Sirius?"

"Get some clothes from my dresser, would you?"

"Everything?" Harry asked, digging around in Sirius's drawers.

"Yes."

Harry obliged, handing Sirius a full set of clothes as well as a dark blue robe.

"Here, Reg, put these on. All your original clothing degraded in that lake," Sirius insisted. Regulus didn't accept the bundle of clothing, though, he was too busy staring intently at Sirius's face.

"Sirius?" Regulus whispered in horror. That Harry boy had called him Sirius, but surely it couldn't be?

"Yeah, it's me, Reg."

"You can't be," Regulus hissed. "There's no way you're my—no way you're Sirius."

Sirius smiled crookedly. "But it is me," he said softly. "And you're really here, too, Reg I can't believe it's you."

Sirius raised a hand to Regulus's cheek. Regulus jerked away from him.

"You're not Sirius, you're too old," he said suspiciously.

Sirius looked very sad for a moment. Then he offered Regulus the clothes again. "Here, put these on and then we can talk."

Regulus accepted the armful of clothing but then merely held on to them and stared expectantly at Sirius and Harry.

"Sorry," said Harry a minute later when his brain caught up. He turned around to give Regulus some privacy.

Regulus glared meaningfully at Sirius. Sirius blinked.

"You're my little brother, Reg, I've seen you in the buff before. You slept all night three inches away from me! You're my _brother._"

"No, I do not know who you are or why you've taken me here," Regulus said fearfully. "Please turn away. Back up and turn away."

"I used to take care of you when you were little! Bathe you, dress you, everything! Surely you haven't anything now that you didn't then."

Regulus was shaking again, although this time from both fear _and_ anger.

Someone tapped Sirius gently on the shoulder and a voice murmured. "Just let him have some space for now, Sirius, this is all a lot to take in."

"Remus?" Sirius asked in confusion. "How did you get in?"

"Harry opened the door for me."

Sirius shot Harry a look. Harry shrugged sheepishly.

"He knocked," he offered, averting his eyes. "You were too busy shouting at Regulus to hear."

"I was coming up to check on you both," said Lupin. "And I can't…I can't say I'm not a little surprised to see that—" he gestured awkwardly at Regulus. "—that this scheme actually worked. Have you given him the antidote yet, Sirius?"

Sirius shot bolt upright. "Shit!" he yelled. He turned frantically to Regulus as if to make sure he wasn't about to keel over right there. "Oh man, Reg, how are you feeling? You're okay, right? Can you hold on for just a second? I'm so sorry."

Regulus leaned away, rubbing at his throat a little. Now that Sirius brought it up, the burn was starting to get stronger, and he was overtaken by the fear that it might increase to the point that it was when he was in the cave. Perhaps this whole ordeal was just one very long hallucination brought about by the Dark Lord's awful poison?

"Remus quickly, hand it to me!"

"Calm down, Sirius, he'll be fine. He'd probably have days before the symptoms even got bad again."

Next moment, Regulus felt Sirius take a firm grasp of his head, pushing a vial to his lips.

Predictably, Regulus screeched and tried to shove him away.

"No, Regulus it's an antidote, it's going to help you!" Sirius pleaded. "Please hold still."

Regulus thrashed. "No!" he cried. "You're going to knock me out again and I'm going to wake up naked somewhere else! Get off of me!"

"So much for letting Regulus be for a little while," Harry muttered to Lupin as the two of them watched Sirius struggle on the floor with his brother.

"It was perhaps foolish of us to think it possible," said Lupin with a sigh as Regulus clawed at Sirius, who slapped his hand harshly. "Sirius is just too excited."

"They're going to spill Professor Snape's antidote," Harry said.

Lupin directed Harry out into the hall. "I have more downstairs," he responded. "Now why don't you come with me to breakfast, Harry, everyone's waiting for you."

"When're we going to tell them about…?"

"After they eat," said Lupin. "They'll be sleepy and fat and less able to chase after us."

* * *

The rest of the Order did not take kindly to the reveal of Regulus. Just as Harry had, they too at first were of the opinion that Regulus did not deserve a second life, and each of them had a list of ten or more people whom Sirius should have revived instead. Harry himself felt a deep shame that he at one point had acted so immaturely.

"Shut up," he hollered round the table. "The lot of you. It was Sirius's potion. His mother had the asphodel and she chose to bequeath it to him. It was his decision to make."

The yammering started up again.

"But he could have chosen better!"

"Why didn't he consult with us?"

"Why didn't he go to Dumbledore?"

Harry looked to Dumbledore, who only sat pensively at the end of the table, and then to Sirius, who was looking down in shame.

When neither of them spoke up, Harry blurted out, "Because you'd react like this! I'm telling you, someone would have been angry no matter whom Sirius brought back, seriously, you're all idiots."

Even Harry's friends blanched at that statement.

"Harry…" Ginny began meekly.

"Quiet," Harry insisted. "What I mean is, look at all of you. You're so angry and vengeful, you've driven Regulus off!"

Suddenly everyone swiveled around, as if on cue, to stare at the seat by Sirius that Regulus had previously occupied. Before anyone could get up to go look for him, Harry pressed on.

"He's in the drawing room, leave him be. You all ought to be ashamed of yourselves. I thought you were all adults, but you're certainly not behaving like it. As I said, you're idiots."

Few people noticed Sirius slip off into the other room, obviously following Regulus.

"Harry," said Mr. Weasley in a clipped tone. "You need to understand—"

"What I understand is you're all trying to make this about Regulus when it really isn't. It's about Sirius!"

Most of the faces that looked up at Harry—who had long since stood up—were skeptical or confused. Hermione alone looked proud.

"Bringing his little brother back has made him happy, can't you all see that? It doesn't _matter_ who or what Regulus was. Sirius is happy for the first time in forever, and all you people want to do is make him miserable and guilty. Do you really think he made this decision lightly? Do you think he owes you all more than he owes himself?"

Nobody had anything to say. George Weasley stared into his drink. Kingsley Shacklebolt was rubbing his chin in thought.

"And besides," said Harry a tad more quietly. "I don't know how anyone could look at how Regulus died and not think he deserves a second chance. I'm not sure if you all just weren't listening earlier or if you somehow think sacrificing his _life_ wasn't sufficient payment for being confused and manipulated by Voldemort, but either way, the problem is with you. Not with Regulus, and certainly not with Sirius."

"He was a Death Eater—" Ms. Weasley began.

"He was a child," this time it was Lupin who spoke. His voice was barely more than a whisper, but he spoke with such vehemence it was chilling. Ms. Weasley stopped talking instantly.

"Regulus never had a chance from the start," Lupin continued. "He was completely surrounded, at school and in his home, by terrible influences. Voldemort got ahold of him when he was sixteen. The fact that he did the right thing in the end completely of his own accord and with absolutely no outside influences is some sort of miracle. I'd wager he's a lot better person than any of us."

"How can you say that?" asked Ron bluntly. "I'd never join You-Know-Who."

"Because you have friends and family who have constantly taught you otherwise, Ronald," hissed Hermione. "And if you felt threatened by him or any of his recruiters, you have people to go to who'll help you. Regulus probably wasn't so lucky."

"He could always have gone to Professor Dumbledore," Ron insisted.

"It is likely he did not trust me," said Professor Dumbledore quietly, speaking for the first time all morning.

"How could he not trust _you_?" wondered Ron in amazement. Professor Dumbledore chuckled.

"He may not have grown up hearing so many nice things about me as you did."

At last Ron quieted. Nobody else seemed to have a good argument to voice. After a few minutes of silence, Harry finally sat back down.

"So it's settled," said Lupin. "Sirius deserves to have his happiness. Regulus will stay here under his care. He will not leave the house and we will not inform the Ministry until things are more stable."

The unspoken meaning was evident in Lupin's words: it wouldn't do to expose Regulus now, during the war, and have him killed by Voldemort for desertion.

"I doubt we'll need to inform Sirius of our decision because I think the whole neighborhood heard our shouting," said Bill with a smile.

"It's just so strange to think Sirius has a brother. It'll be like having two Siriuses," said Ginny.

"Exactly what we need," said Ms. Weasley sarcastically. "A second Sirius to be short-sighted and reckless."

Professor Snape snorted in amusement.

"What's so funny?" Ginny asked.

It was Lupin who answered her.

"Nothing," he said with a grin. "Just that your mother really doesn't have to worry about any reckless behavior coming from Regulus. Sirius is going to have him on lockdown."

Harry smiled at the truth in Lupin's words. Sirius was so excited that Regulus was alive again. "Regulus'll be lucky if Sirius lets him sleep in his own room," Harry added. "You guys didn't see him this morning when we saw that the potion had worked."

Lupin was grinning fondly. "Exactly," he said. "Now if you don't mind, I think I'm going to go check on our two Black brothers."

The children were sent back upstairs now that breakfast, the announcement about Regulus and the subsequent argument were all over. Professor Dumbledore regrouped everybody, but postponed actually starting the meeting for a few minutes while they waited for Sirius and Lupin to return.

Lupin found Sirius and Regulus sitting together on the couch in the drawing room. Sirius had his arm around Regulus's shoulders and Regulus, while he still appeared stiff and cold, was at least allowing Sirius to touch him.

The two looked up at Lupin when he entered.

"We're done fighting now," Lupin announced. "Most everyone's gotten over themselves. Your godson really read them the riot act."

Sirius smiled.

"So if you'll come back to the kitchen, we'll start the meeting."

"Okay," Sirius agreed. He stood up, pulling Regulus with him. "Reg," he said. "Go upstairs to your room, okay? I'll come get you when the meeting is done."

"Huh?" said Regulus, giving Sirius an incredulous look. "I think I'd rather attend this meeting. After all I'm the one that discovered the Dark Lord's secret."

"I know you did," said Sirius. "And now so does Dumbledore and everyone else. You've been very brave but now I don't want you involved anymore. You just need to lie low. I want you upstairs with the other kids."

"I am not a kid," insisted Regulus, spitting out the word 'kid' with distaste.

"By Order standards you are," Lupin said with a wry smile. "You're actually four months younger than Fred and George, and they're cooling it upstairs in their room as we speak."

Regulus stammered a bit before griping, "You're not the boss of me, Sirius. I may accept that you are my real brother, but you are not my father."

"I've got seventeen years on you now, Reggie, I might as well be."

Regulus frowned but didn't argue further. He walked to the kitchen with Sirius and Lupin silently, and then after one last spiteful glare, sauntered up the stairs to his bedroom.

Sirius tapped Lupin on the arm. "Remus," he said. "I actually think Reggie's more like four months _older_ than the twins."

"I know," Lupin grinned. "But it'll be a while before he figures that out."

* * *

Regulus climbed up the stairs to the first landing. From down the hall he could hear the muffled voices of the Weasley children, Harry Potter, and Hermione Granger. It was a very strange feeling that settled in his stomach. He was not accustomed to there being so many people in his home, and certainly not in a room so close to his own bedroom.

Regulus skulked past the spare room that the others were congregated in, wanting to be in his own, but he stopped shortly before entering, his hand frozen over the handle.

What would he find in there? Sirius said that he'd been purging the house, had he made it to Regulus's bedroom yet? Would there be anything left?

Regulus pushed open his door and resisted the urge to close his eyes like a child.

Everything seemed the same as he'd left it nearly two decades ago, albeit a bit more dusty. Regulus walked across the soft carpet to his bed and grazed his fingers along the sheets, disturbing sixteen years' worth of dust.

He tore down from his walls the newspaper clippings and press releases. He'd already shoved them all into the fire before the little voice in his head asked him why he was bothering.

He opened his murky closet and dug around behind moth-eaten robes to find his mask. It, too, he threw into the fireplace. As he watched it slowly heat up, he was reminded of all the meetings he'd worn it to, how scared he had been each time, how nervous he'd been that he would finally be called upon to complete an actual assignment, to do more than just sit and watch…

"Regulus?" came a nervous voice.

Regulus snapped out of his reverie and looked up from the fire. He had not closed the door to his bedroom and one of the kids had come wandering over. It was the girl with red hair. One of the Weasleys, though Regulus didn't care much to remember which.

"I'm Ginny, remember?" she said, taking a careful step over the threshold. "We were wondering if you wanted to come join us. We're going to use Fred and George's (they're my twin brothers) extendable ears to listen in on the rest of the meeting. We thought you might be interested, since they're bound to be talking about you…"

Regulus narrowed his eyes. Where exactly did Ginny Weasley get off talking to him like they were fast friends? She was—

Regulus cut himself off. That was his mother talking.

"All right," said Regulus gruffly. He stood up and followed Ginny back to the others. She looked slightly surprised by his agreement.

One of the identical Weasley boys—he introduced himself as Fred—handed Regulus a long, flesh colored string. Regulus took it carefully, holding it out in mild distaste.

"These things are wicked useful," said Harry Potter. "Nobody's ever the wiser."

Regulus met Harry's eyes for a moment, curious. Harry had seemed so loyal to Sirius but here he was defying the man.

…the man? When had Sirius become a man? Last Regulus had looked, he was an irresponsible 21 year-old, caught up in his little hero fantasies and flying his motorcycle all over god knows where.

"Here, hold it to your ear like this," instructed the muggle-born girl, Hermione Granger. "You'll be able to hear them, clear as a bell."

Regulus nodded. He put what he hoped was the correct end of the device in his ear and dropped the other over the edge of the steps. It stretched and inched its way under the door to the kitchen. They breached the silencing charm around the kitchen and immediately Regulus's ears were met with a torrent of discussion.

"—Well at least I haven't been wasting my time resurrecting Death Eaters."

"We've put that discussion behind us, Molly. Sirius _sit down._ Regulus isn't going anywhere, and that's final."

Regulus wasn't sure how he felt having Lupin defend him.

"I want him under constant surveillance. My children are in this house."

"I know that Molly, but Regulus isn't a threat."

"He's—"

Regulus dropped his extendable ear to the ground. "Let me know if they say anything interesting later on," he said to Harry before trudging sadly back up the stairs. He really had no desire to listen to a middle-aged woman berate him all night. He'd had just about enough of being treated like a stranger in his own home.

None of the others followed him or said anything. They merely resumed their eavesdropping. Regulus returned to his room and lay down on his bed. Several hours later, he heard Sirius open the door and softly say his name.

"Regulus, lunch'll be ready soon. You didn't eat breakfast, you have to be hungry."

Regulus didn't move.

He felt the sunlight from his window disappear as the shadow of Sirius fell over his face.

"Reggie," he urged, prodding at Regulus's shoulder gently. "I know you're not asleep. Come on, now, get up. You really need to eat, you're a walking skeleton."

Regulus tried to make his breathing even.

He could almost feel Sirius rolling his eyes. "You're not fooling me with this, Reg, I know you're awake."

Sirius took ahold of Regulus by his sleeve and heaved him into a sitting position. Regulus finally relented and opened his eyes, immediately sighing and looking down.

"What's wrong?" asked Sirius. Regulus gave him such a look he actually blanched.

"All right, stupid question, I'll admit," Sirius sat down next to his brother. "Come on, though, Reg, talk to me, please."

"I don't want to go down there," Regulus said sullenly.

"And why not?" Sirius asked in a tone that reminded Regulus heavily of their father. Regulus actually shivered a little.

"Your friends' hostility makes me uncomfortable."

Sirius's hand was hovering in between himself and Regulus, as though he couldn't quite decide whether or not he could get away with touching his brother at this point in their revived relationship.

"I understand," Sirius said. "I can bring you something to eat in here?"

Regulus hissed through clenched teeth, "This is _my_ house. _They_ should leave."

"I get that you're frustrated, Regulus, but you have to understand—"

"I have to understand?" Regulus demanded. "Well I don't understand! I don't understand anything—not where I am or who you are!"

"Regulus," Sirius said desperately. "I'm Sirius, you have to believe me…you said you did believe me!"

Regulus shook his head. "I don't know what's going on here, but you certainly aren't any brother of mine! The Sirius I know would never have wasted a resurrection potion on me! He'd've revived James Potter. The two of them would probably be drinking right about now."

Regulus stood up and tried to walk away, but Sirius grabbed him by the wrist.

"Of course I considered James, but I couldn't bring back him and not Lily, he'd have never forgiven me! Surely—"

Sirius trailed off at the outraged look on Regulus's face.

"Regulus, what I meant was…"

"Oh, well I'm glad you would think to be so considerate of your dead best friend's feelings. Good to know I was your option number three…or were there others you considered before me?"

"No, Regulus," Sirius felt his brother pull from his grasp and leave the room. Sirius heard his footsteps echo off down the hall and then trudge up the stairs at the edge of the landing.

Sirius sat in silence for a second before what had just occurred sank in. He then sprang to his feet and dashed out into the hall where he collided with Lupin.

"Ouch," Sirius picked himself up off the floor. "Solid as ever, I see, Moony."

Lupin helped steady him. "What're you running around for, Sirius?"

Sirius sighed. "Chasing after Reggie, what else?"

"Chasing? Where exactly is he going?" Lupin asked.

Sirius shrugged. "I guess not anywhere, I was just…"

"Frantic," Lupin finished for him. "You were unsteady all through the meeting as well. Sirius, just relax. Things can't go on like this forever, Regulus will come around to you eventually and it'll all work out."

Sirius bit his lip. "I'm not so sure. Remus, he's so upset."

"What happened?" Lupin asked.

Sirius explained with a sigh. "He was skeptical of my intentions, said that the brother he knew would've left him dead in a heartbeat to save someone better. I kind of spoke without thinking, told him about how I'd considered Lily and James and why I ultimately decided against them, and then, well…"

Lupin grimaced. "Smooth thinking, Sirius," he said sarcastically.

Sirius looked at him dejectedly. "You're supposed to be helping me feel better," he whined.

"I was planning on it, but that was before you told me how badly you cocked up Listen, Sirius," Lupin clapped a hand on his shoulder. "He'll still come 'round, believe me."

"And just how do you think you know that?"

Lupin smiled and pointed behind Sirius, towards the open door to Regulus's bedroom.

"Why don't you take a closer look in there? I have a suspicion."

They stepped into Regulus's room. Lupin pointed at the smoldering remains in the fire. For the first time, Sirius noticed that it was still hot and smoking. Sirius kneeled in front of the grate and poked at the remains with his wand. There was a lot of ash, a few remaining paper scraps and also something metallic, once flat and ornate but now burned and warped.

"Regulus's mask," said Lupin plainly. "'And judging by the marks on the walls, quite a few papers that were once tacked up."

Sirius ran his hand through the ashes. "Why would he go through all the trouble?"

"He didn't want you to see, Sirius."

Sirius blinked. "You think so?"

Lupin nodded. "Yes, I really do. Give him a little while to cool off, Sirius, and then try bringing him something to eat. We really can't let him go much longer without food. Some extra vitamins or electrolytes wouldn't go amiss, either. He's going to get sick."

"You're right," Sirius agreed. A knot twisted in his belly when he thought about Regulus's taut skin and jagged limbs. "God, I can't believe I let him refuse to eat breakfast. And to think I thought that this time around I'd take good care of him! Look how I'm doing so far," he added bitterly.

"You're just a little overwhelmed. Going from completely carefree to tied down with two teenagers overnight will do that to a person," Lupin joked. "Let's go downstairs now, we can set a plate of food warming for Regulus."

* * *

Sirius did just that. He gave Regulus almost three hours before he joined him in the attic, carrying a full dinner plate.

Regulus was nestled in a musty blanket, leaning against a crate beneath the window. He didn't react to Sirius's presence.

Sirius approached him cautiously. "Whatcha' got there, Reg?" he asked.

Regulus looked up from the photo frame in his lap. "Nothing, Sirius," he muttered. "Go back downstairs."

Sirius gritted his teeth. "No," he said firmly. "Regulus, I've brought you some food, and I won't leave you be until you eat at least some of it. Remus has Snape making you some supplemental potions as well."

"I'm not hungry," Regulus said hoarsely.

Sirius hissed in frustration. He sat down with his brother and set the tray in front of him.

"I don't care, Regulus. Look at you, you're skinnier than when we found you. You need to eat something. I don't know what you're trying to pull, starving yourself…"

Regulus pushed the tray of food a few feet away with the toe of his boot, and then went back to staring mournfully at the picture in his hands.

"Regulus," Sirius scolded. "Eat."

Regulus turned his gaunt eyes to Sirius and said simply, "No."

Sirius glared at him. "Regulus, I'm asking you one more time to cooperate. I'd rather not have to make you."

"Go ahead," Regulus said. "Hurt me."

Enough light was shining through the row of attic windows behind them that Sirius could make out his brother's stubborn expression amongst all the dust motes floating through the air. Sirius's fleeting urge to smack Regulus's insolent face was pulverized the instant he took in how emaciated it was. Regulus's eyes sat in deep hollows, his cheekbones, which had always been fine, were now more pronounced than ever, and his skin was deathly pale.

Then Regulus's taut face split into a smug grin. He leaned back against the storage boxes. "What's stalling you? Aren't you going to punish me?"

Sirius started at these words. "I'm not…I'm not _Father,_" he stuttered.

"Oh," said Regulus lightly. "The way you were talking, I thought you were."

"Regulus, I just meant that—"

"You're not my brother anymore, Sirius," said Regulus in a distant voice.

Sirius's expression softened. "No, Reggie…" He started to reach out but stopped because Regulus was leaning away from his approaching hand. Instead he settled for scooting a little closer to his brother looking straight into his eyes. "You're backwards. I wasn't there for you back then, but I'm ready to be your brother _now…_"

"Oh, okay," said Regulus. "So long as it's convenient timing for you…"

Sirius hung his head.

Regulus's grip tightened drastically on his picture. "You're not the same Sirius," he muttered, almost to himself. "But at least you're here…"

Sirius looked up again and for the first time noticed his brother was cradling an old family photo.

"I thought I threw that away," Sirius whispered.

"Your godson stole it and gave it to Kreacher," Regulus explained. "He let me see it."

Sirius nodded. That sounded like something Harry would have done. He leaned in to better see the picture and snorted.

"Look at that smile of yours. You have to be missing half your teeth!"

Regulus shot him a glare. "At least when my new teeth grew in they were straight. Father didn't have to tie _me_ down and realign them magically."

Sirius automatically raised a hand to his mouth as unkind memories came flooding back to him.

Regulus looked down again. "They were alive, Sirius. Just yesterday they were both here. Yesterday for me, I mean…"

Sirius could stand it no longer. He pulled Regulus out of his moth-eaten blankets and into his lap. He held Regulus tight against his chest.

Sirius felt very little over the passing of his parents. Somewhere in his heart he mourned the loss of the idea of a mother and a father, but Orion and Walburga were not people he felt inclined to cry for.

Seeing his brother closer to tears than he'd seen him since before they'd started school, however, tugged at his heart. For all their flaws, Mr. and Ms. Black had been parents to Regulus. They had been his protectors and the anchors around which his sense of normalcy revolved. Now they were gone, and he'd been thrust into a strange surrounding, different but eerily similar.

Thinking that now was the time he might as well press his luck, Sirius kissed his brother's temple. Regulus didn't react.

"It'll all be okay, Regulus," he promised. "We'll keep you here. It's a safe house; no one can get you here. You'll stay here until that lunatic is dead, and then we'll see about starting over."

Regulus pulled away and looked solemnly up at him.

"I'm to just…sit in here and wait out the war?" he asked curiously.

"Yes," Sirius insisted. "And Harry's moving in. I'll get my shit figured out about just how much of a father I should be for you two, and how much of a brother. And then we can be a proper family."

"Not if you're dead, we won't," Regulus quipped.

Sirius blinked. "I'm not going to die, Reggie. Dumbledore never lets me leave this place."

"He will once Voldemort's existence is made public knowledge and you're no longer a fugitive."

Sirius tilted his head. "Regulus…" he said slowly. "You know you'd be taken care of. The Order—"

"Would throw me in jail or out in the streets to be killed by my master in a heartbeat if you weren't here," Regulus said. "They've gotten their information out of me, I'm of no further use to any of them."

Sirius heard the conviction in Regulus's voice and knew he could not convince his brother otherwise. He took Regulus's chin in his hand. "All right, then. I'm not going anywhere, Regulus," he said clearly. "I won't leave you—Regulus, listen to me. Every morning when you wake up, I will still be here. I will not leave you like Mother and Father, I promise. Even after my name is cleared, I'll stay right here."

Regulus was forlorn. "Since when have you ever kept your promises to me?"

"Since my mistakes made me lose you. I may be irresponsible, Regulus, but I am not stupid. I won't make the same mistake twice."

There was a brief silence before Sirius continued, as though he had been choosing his next words very carefully.

"Regulus, you do understand that I chose you because I love you? I considered others like James and Lily because I knew everyone would expect me to choose them, but from the start, it was always you that I wanted the most to see again."

"I suppose I have to believe you, don't I?" Regulus mused. "I have no one else, and most everyone in this house would garret me in my sleep if you weren't standing in their way. You're all I have."

Sirius ruffled Regulus's hair. His hand came away grungy and he made a mental note to give Regulus a serious bath…see if he couldn't get that shiny, raven-blue-black to come back out to play.

Sirius lifted a dinner roll off the plate on the floor and presented it to Regulus.

"You're goddam right I'm all you have. Now how about you lose the teenage attitude and start eating," he added light-heartedly. "Before I grab ahold of you and smack you."

"You can't do that, you're my brother!"

Sirius grinned evilly. "The two-decade age gap and your general disobedience would suggest that I'm your father."

Regulus shot him an alarmed look. "You said you were going to figure out a proper balance!"

Sirius slipped the bread into his brother's hand. Regulus frantically took a bite.

Sirius kissed Regulus's forehead and put an arm around him.

"I like to start my bidding off high…"

_Signed/tenrousei-kuroi_


End file.
